Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Driving to the church and unloading the boxes was easier than the loading had been. Several members of the church and volunteers came out to help and told me how much they loved and missed Honey, that was what everyone called my Gran. Her real name was Gertrude, but my grandfather had nicknamed her Honey because he said there was nothing sweeter in this world than my Gran. The name had stuck. There were few people who knew her real name and she told me once it was one of the reasons she loved my grandfather so much, because she had never liked the name Gertrude.
I accepted the chocolate chip cookies and lemonade a lady named Betty offered me because, first of all, I was positive she would follow me to my car and put them in it if I turned them down and secondly, my Gran would have wanted me to take them, even if I couldn’t eat the cookies. I seriously doubted they were gluten and dairy-free. However, the lemonade came in handy because a man named Roger, who had fought in Vietnam with my grandfather, wanted to tell me about the time Honey and his wife Hazel ran out of gas on the causeway in a thunderstorm. The story was longer than anticipated and the lemonade was nice to have while I listened.
Two more stories about Gran from ladies she played Bridge with on Friday afternoons and I was back in my car mentally exhausted from smiling and nodding. I had thought the first item on the list would be the easiest. I now realized I was wrong. Unless I was right and the list was deceiving. Perhaps I was supposed to learn something along the way. I glanced in my rearview mirror. I had learned that those over the age of seventy really like to tell stories and hear themselves talk. At one point, I was worried Roger was going to get tackled by Henry when he began talking over him. I couldn’t blame Henry. Roger’s story did go on and on and on.
The second thing on the list was taking a box Gran had left on her dresser to the penthouse at the Hendrix IV Condominiums. She didn’t explain anything about why or who it was to, which made it all the more strange. There was a silver and black key card on the box and it would get me into the private elevator that went to the penthouse. I was to take the box and inform whoever opened the door that it was from Honey. That was it. I could then leave.
I had no other plans for the day, and until this list was completed, I wasn’t going to look for a summer job. Part of finding me again was closure. I needed closure after Gran’s death. She had been taken so quickly and I hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. This list was the last thing she had asked of me, so I would complete it for her no matter how odd the seven requests on the list may be.
Two
Although I had never stayed at the Hendrix IV, I knew where it was. The Hendrix Condominiums were the most luxurious condominiums on the gulf coast. Just like the Hendrix Hotel chain was a five-star hotel found in very exclusive locations around the world. When the condominiums had come to Alabama’s coast, it had made major headlines. Even my mother had talked about it. That being said, the issue I had with this item on Gran’s list was that it was intimidating. Pulling up to the guarded gate around the place did not help my anxiety.
A bald man wearing a black suit walked up to my window and my first thought was he had to be burning up, my second thought was what the heck was I supposed to tell him. Gran had left me this key. She had said nothing about a man at the gate. I rolled down the driver’s side window and took off my sunglasses. He was large enough that he was blocking any glare from the sun.
“Name,” he said.
“Uh, well, see,” I started and realized I sounded nervous and guilty but of what I had no idea. Trying to pull it together and successfully pull off Gran’s second request on the list, I cleared my throat.
“Name,” he repeated louder as if I hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Yes, my name is Henley Warren, and you see my grandmother, she passed away and she left me this list.” I stopped then and swallowed nervously. I could see my reflection in his sunglasses and I looked as nervous as I felt.
“Do you have a reservation, ma’am?” he asked me then.
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to explain the list and what I was to do for my deceased grandmother to this man and successfully get away with it. He appeared ready to have me turn my car around and leave. I wasn’t good with words or coming up with things on the spur of the moment. I often forgot how to speak altogether when put in a corner such as this. Will had been the one who was good at this. Will would have known what to say. He would have charmed his way right inside that gate.